[DND] Lost at the hands of Fate

Ahiga Nishant · 05-19-2012, 10:15 AM

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Even though we're damaged goods, I would love you if I could
But you are so unalarmed, by my unfortunate charm

Word Count → 384 :: Sorry for wait and general sucky-ness of this post. Shall be faster/better with my next one <3

Choosing his small shack along the borders had initially seemed like a good idea; for typically, in the lads honest opinion, few ever bothered to venture down so far south to visit the tribe and so it worked in his favour to live along the border where he could see the world outside of his pack and anyone who's travels led them within viewing distance. Sounds logic his idea had been, only until he realised the small detail he had overlooked... that if he could see those approaching, the strangers heading towards his home pack could often make out the general outline of his small cabin and him, for the thin trees that surrounded his home provided him with little to no camouflage.

Having awoken early, the lad had set of to the stables and attended to Buck as he did everyday; making sure that the stallions stool was clean and that the buskin thoroughbred at least looked cleaner then he did when the lad had arrived; quickly the moon streaked hunter had learnt it was impossible to keep Buck spotless clean, for the stallion was filthy by nature. Upon his way back from the stables he'd heard that some trading caravan was coming to or was already at the pack and made a mental note to stop by, heading promptly back home to finish skinning the rabbits that he'd snagged the other day and gather what little goods he could spare so that he had something of worth to trade with those who had come to the pack.

As such, he was busy rummaging around his living space, picking up pots of dye, collected plants, berries and dried foliage, piling it up along with nicely wrapped up meat and skins. Sure his belongings weren't anything rare or exotic, but they were things many others needed regularly and he hoped someone present with the trading group would be interested. Dumping the last of his free skins on the pile, he turned as the sounds of a strangers approach burst the bubble he had created around himself, forest filled eyes silently staring at the strangely familiar male as he spoke. “Yo” he muttered back, dipping his head slightly in greeting. “Can I do something for you?” he asked, curious as to what the male wanted.

And now I'm screaming bloody murder, as my tempature begins to drop

And my life is going numb, as my hearts about to stop

Table by the Mentors!

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